


praxis

by vaporstretch



Series: commit to memory [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, Long Distance Call, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Phone Calls & Telephones, Romantic Fluff, SakuAtsu, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27586309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaporstretch/pseuds/vaporstretch
Summary: "I guess I would like to return the favor.""Favor?"“You’ve stolen some kisses from me, Omi-kun,” Atsumu reminds him.Sakusa doesn’t reply instantly and all Atsumu catches is his subtle breathing.“So what?” Sakusa finally says, the smugness in his tone palpable. “Are you going to punish me for it, Miya Atsumu?”---Sakusa goes home to Tokyo. Atsumu stays behind in Osaka. They try long-distance communication for the first time.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: commit to memory [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983235
Comments: 19
Kudos: 221





	praxis

**Author's Note:**

> we are finally here lol. it was somewhat of a long(ish) time coming, but here's part 3 and it's much longer than both parts 1 and 2. anyway, since this series was completely unplanned when i started it, i struggled a lot with part 3 because i had to make subsequent arrangements to the other parts that would follow. hence right now, i cannot say for sure how many parts this series will be. anyway, i just checked the stats for parts 1 and 2 and i cannot thank you folks enough for the kudos. really encourages me to keep writing uwu.
> 
> anyway, i hope you folks enjoy this one. stay safe always!

“You’re making that face again,” Sakusa says.

Atsumu grips the steering wheel of their team captain’s silver Toyota. He doesn’t immediately respond to Sakusa’s comment, but instead proceeds to put the car on hazard mode, promptly parking right outside Osaka Station.

The sun remains hidden as they stew in silence, basking in the remaining warmth which the car heater had provided them with earlier. Atsumu notices the way the sky is still a deep indigo hue, a hallmark of the ungodly hour he had to wake up that day to drive Sakusa to the station so he can catch the first trip to Tokyo. Less crowded, he told him. Atsumu relents but not without a whine and a half-hearted negotiation. Of course, Sakusa emerges triumphant and after a gentle pat of gratitude on Atsumu’s back, the setter lets himself drown in the familiar waves of tenderness that seems to ebb and flow with more frequency between them lately.

_ For you. I’ll do anything for you.  _

The news regarding Sakusa’s brother was delivered in the most trademark Sakusa way possible--with the casualness of a side comment in the midst of the team’s relative chaos during dinnertime.

When it eventually dawned on the rest of the team that Sakusa had just announced to them that his older brother just got engaged, it was met with appropriate cheers and warm well-wishes and Sakusa had likewise responded with all the politeness that one Sakusa Kiyoomi could muster.  Atsumu, however, was able to notice the air of indifference in Sakusa’s cordial thank yous and lukewarm answers. He could tell that beneath that face mask he wears like a second skin, he’s straining himself, feigning sincerity in his attempt to match the friendly energy of his teammates who had started asking about his brother and his soon-to-be wife.

It comes as a rather unfriendly realization to Atsumu that he doesn’t really know much about Sakusa’s family. Atsumu had hoped that by bringing up stories of his own family (mostly just rants concerning his twin brother and all the nasty fights they’ve had in the past), Sakusa would share similar anecdotes in exchange. However, he only ends up telling Atsumu very little about his own parents and siblings. All Atsumu knows is that he has an older sister, an attorney at a private law firm, and an older brother who had finished his PhD in Physics or something in London and has now proceeded to teach in one of the universities there.

At first, Atsumu had assumed it was just Sakusa Kiyoomi being Sakusa Kiyoomi. Reserved and level-headed. Thus, it would have been unlikely of him to suddenly just jabber away about fond family memories. That was more of Atsumu’s thing. But Atsumu had caught on quickly to the way Sakusa would recall his time at Itachiyama, and the very relaxed upward curl of his mouth when he would bring up tales of his high school teammates’ own shenanigans. Atsumu realized that Sakusa  _ can _ feel this way, that the idea of a family where one feels at home and welcome doesn’t entirely elude the emotional landscape of Sakusa Kiyoomi. And admittedly, Atsumu would sometimes imagine  _ this _ kind of Sakusa--softening features, a slight lilt in his voice--when he talks to Komori about him.

Now Sakusa was going to be away for three or four days to be with a particular family he doesn’t seem to be close with. Their coach, on the other hand, saw this as a good opportunity for Sakusa to rest up and recover

“You’ve worked hard,” their coach had told Sakusa. “Especially for your V-league debut, it was definitely more than what I had expected. You deserve some downtime with your family so you can come back in better shape.”

Sakusa had only responded with a wordless nod and Atsumu had immediately wanted to reach over and take his hand and squeeze it. He didn’t, of course. They had left the coach’s office after they had agreed that Atsumu would borrow Meian’s car and drive Sakusa to the train station.

“I knew you two would get along,” their coach had said cheerfully before ushering them out. “I mean, it would make sense ‘cause you were from the same batch in high school. And look at you both now--the best of friends in the professional leagues.”

They had managed to avoid giving each other sheepish grins once they finally closed the office door behind them.

  
  
  


It's a Thursday and again, even with the knowledge of morning practice, Atsumu deems it still too early for him to be up. But the prominent presence of Sakusa in the passenger seat, unfailing in its ability to easily coax Atsumu out of a sour mood, makes all the difference. To be alone together, drowsy and cold, in the quiet of early morning dawn. Atsumu builds yet another monument of this memory in his mind.

“What are you talking about?” Atsumu finally speaks. He yawns afterwards then rubs his left eye. “This has always been my face.”

“No,” Sakusa furrows his brows at him. “You’re making that face when you’re overthinking something... _ unnecessary _ .”

Atsumu flashes Sakusa a playful smirk. “How observant, Omi-kun. I’m flattered you would pay this much attention to me.”

Sakusa looks unamused. “Like the coach said, I’ve had to share an unfortunate amount of my high school volleyball life with you since we were from the same batch. So it’s hard to ignore all your quirks.”

Another yawn from Atsumu followed shortly by a small chuckle tumbles out of him. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Omi-kun.”

They don’t say anything after that and Sakusa takes it as a cue for him to unlock the car door. 

“Wait,” Atsumu says. “You were right. I  _ was _ thinking of something.”

“Do you wish to talk about it?” Sakusa leaves the car door slightly open, but the cool autumn air was quickly replacing the heat inside the car and so he ends up closing it.

“It’s...just something stupid,” Atsumu mumbles and immediately his face begins to feel hot.

“I think at this point you should know that whatever presumably stupid thought you have, it doesn’t really bother me,” Sakusa could tell from the burgeoning blush on Atsumu’s cheeks that it’s probably something embarrassing so he throws in a jab to mitigate any awkwardness. 

Atsumu clears his throat. 

“I was thinking about if I should give you a hug good-bye or not,” he says too quickly and in too small of a voice that it prompts Sakusa to raise a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Huh?” 

“I said I was thinking if I should give you a good-bye hug,” Atsumu repeats, the embarrassment stark in the way his cheeks have turned a pale pink.

“ _ That’s  _ what you’ve been so preoccupied with?” Sakusa deadpans.

“I told you it was stupid,” Atsumu groans. “Anyway, forget it. Just go already or else you’re gonna miss your train.”

Sakusa heaves out a sigh. Not exactly out of irritation, but there's a small hint of it. “Get out of the car.”

Atsumu turns his head sharply towards him, eyes wide with bewilderment. “Excuse me?”

“Just get out of the car.  _ Now _ .”

There’s some grumbling that spills out of Atsumu while he unbuckles his own seatbelt, eventually swinging the car door open. The unpleasantly nippy morning air is the first thing that greets him once he steps out of the vehicle and he shivers as he allows himself to sink deeper into his Black Jackals jacket. He spots Sakusa putting on his backpack before he comes from around the car, taking easy strides towards him. 

“Whatever this is Omi-kun, we gotta hurry up.” Atsumu tells him, the cold an ample distraction that causes him to lower his gaze as he tucks himself further in his jacket . “I can’t park here for long, you know.”

It’s suddenly a few degrees warmer. One arm lands heavy across Atsumu’s back as he is pulled in for an embrace which at this point is so achingly familiar that Atsumu melts in it so easily. The dry, cool air is replaced with the warmth that radiates from Sakusa. A clean scent that Atsumu is already so acquainted with that the realization that he and Sakusa will be apart for the first time since the beginning of their relationship comes crashing down on him like a ferocious avalanche. His throat becomes all too dry as he breathes in more of Sakusa, as he takes in more of his body heat that somehow still causes goosebumps to prick the expanse of skin underneath his clothes.

“I’m going to miss you,” Atsumu finds himself saying. He instantly regrets what he said, thinking it would probably earn him an eye-roll from Sakusa who would then remind Atsumu with all the rationality in the world that he would only be gone for a few days.

But instead Sakusa remains silent as he slowly detaches from the embrace. There seems to be a beat of hesitation that passes over him, but he eventually tugs down his face mask. Atsumu notices him swallow before he leans over to plant a kiss on Atsumu’s forehead. 

“I’ll miss you too,” Sakusa whispers.

_ He is going to be the death of me. _

Atsumu groans, hands immediately flying to cover his face. “Omi-kun you can’t just do that!”

Sakusa is already pulling away, rearranging his face mask as well as the straps of his bag. “Hmmm, last time I checked, we  _ are  _ in a relationship. I think I have permission to do that.”

It’s still cold yet somehow Atsumu is burning from the inside out. But Atsumu is still Atsumu and he finds a way to turn the situation around with a challenge. “One day, you’ll be the one caught off-guard. I swear!”

“I’m positively frightened,” Sakusa tells him, sounding absolutely disinterested. He starts to walk slowly to the entrance, the distant ache in his knee becoming more apparent due to the cold.

“You better be, Omi-kun!”

Sakusa looks over his shoulder and Atsumu can make out a smile beneath that darn mask. “Give me your best shot, Atsumu.”

If it weren’t for one of the station personnel reminding Atsumu to move Meian’s car, he would have stayed glued on the spot, inexplicably aflamed with a want he would soon realize would prove quite difficult to contain. 

  
  


_ *** _

When Atsumu gets home, he instantly flops onto his bed, managing to catch just under an hour of sleep before the resounding alarm tone of his phone jolts him awake to remind him of morning practice. He gets up with all the will and fortitude that’s always in ready supply when it comes to volleyball, and after one satisfying stretch, he collects his duffel bag from the foot of his bed before exiting his room.

“So how was the drive?” Meian asks Atsumu as they pile into their team bus. “Hope my car didn’t give you a hard time.”

Omitting entirely the way he got reprimanded by the station personnel earlier, Atsumu raises a thumbs up and partners it with a lazy grin. “No problems at all,Cap.” But then in comes a flashback to that farewell embrace that felt like a lifetime and the peck that had ambushed him. “And it was a very  _ very  _ good drive.”

“Well I’m glad to hear that,” Meian does a friendly clap on his shoulder. “It’s a shame about Sakusa. But health comes first always after all.”

Atsumu finally finds a seat in the bus and Meian easily slips beside him. For the longest time, it had been Sakusa who took the aisle seat during the bus rides. He always thought the windows were too dirty which is how Atsumu had ended up switching seats with him the first time they sat together. And since then, that has always been their arrangement. A fair compromise, Atsumu thinks, when he does on occasion enjoy peering outside to catch their fans waving at them. Sakusa had called him annoying because of that. Turned out Sakusa was genuinely endeared by it and had confessed with a stutter that he found it cute to see Atsumu in an excitable state.

“So how long’s his visit again? Three days?” Meian positions his bag on his lap as the bus rumbles slowly to a start.

“He said it could be four,” Atsumu replies with a shrug. “It’s supposed to be a very big deal, his brother’s engagement. He’s the first one to get married after all.”

Meian laughs. “Ahh yes. Families do tend to fuss over these things. And once one kid gets hitched, it’s like  _ every _ other kid has to get engaged soon. Before you know it, Sakusa could be announcing his  _ own  _ engagement.”

The corresponding laughter Atsumu emits sounds too surprisingly calm, the casual conversation with their captain a reminder that he and Sakusa has yet to go public to  _ anyone _ about their relationship. It's not like they're wary of the responses they might get from the team. Everyone's way past that considering when Bokuto had revealed to them that he's been dating his former high school team's setter, it was met with sufficient delight. The  _ ohs _ and  _ ahs _ a simple but forthcoming gesture of acceptance that Atsumu clings to whenever he so much as entertains the thought of telling anyone about him and Sakusa.

However, he remains reluctant. Partly because Sakusa himself has never brought it up and so Atsumu assumes that he might not be ready, and partly also because Atsumu just can’t stop thinking about that time in high school when his twin had briefly dated their middle blocker and the intra-team awkwardness that would ensue whenever they had a lovers’ quarrel. Excruciating was an understatement, but thankfully the two settled on becoming good friends after the inevitable break up. It was still, however, not without any casualties and the possibility of this experience doing a repeat performance in the professional leagues was something Atsumu would like to avoid at all cost

After all, this was still his first relationship. He admits that it’s pretty much as if he were a fawn fumbling about on unsteady legs as he tries to be someone’s  _ actual  _ boyfriend for the first time. If he does end up making  _ any  _ mistakes, it’ll probably be just as stupid and  embarrasing as any lovestruck high schooler testing out the waters. 

The coach does a final head count before the bus gently lurches forward. Atsumu glances at the phone in his hand, immediately noting the crack on the LCD screen which Sakusa has already given him grief over. He checks the time and sees that it’s only eight in the morning. However, the odd sinking feeling that overcomes him is not one of fatigue, but a restless anticipation of a text message or voice mail. 

It hasn’t even been half a day and yet Atsumu, in all his simplicity, already misses the hell out of Sakusa Kiyoomi.

***

Routines keep Sakusa steady. He has one for practically every predicament he can find himself in. And once he boards the Shinkansen, Sakusa flips through his mental catalogue of routines and chooses the specific one he falls back to when concerning public commute. He begins by pulling out a packet of wipes then proceeds to meticulously sanitize every possible crevice of his assigned seat. Once he's satisfied that he's done enough, he disposes of the wipes properly then spritzes a decent amount of rubbing alcohol on his hands before he can finally settle down.

The trip from Osaka to Tokyo takes about two hours and thirty minutes. When Sakusa was still a student, he would usually spend any sort of travel time reading and reviewing for classes. But it's already been months since his graduation from university and now Sakusa finds himself getting slightly antsy. 

It doesn't help that his mind just can’t seem to stop replaying the earlier interactions between him and Atsumu. The growing physical intimacy. Bold and a bit reckless. The spark of flirtation. Sakusa is glad he has his face mask on for the most part because God forbid Atsumu sees the bright red color on his cheeks. Atsumu wouldn't let him live. Then again, when has Miya Atsumu  _ ever  _ let Sakusa live? 

As days go by, the fear that used to latch on to their awkward encounters as boyfriends becomes a dwindling shadow. Everything suddenly feels too hot when he’s near Atsumu. It's simultaneously a frenzied charge of electricity that keeps Sakusa keenly aware of  _ every  _ little thing--the brightness of Atsumu's eyes, the rascal smile that makes Sakusa's pulse quicken, the cheeky remarks uttered in Kansai-ben, the sheath of skin over the muscles Atsumu seems to rely on too much. 

Sakusa wants and  _ aches _ that he absentmindedly finds himself pressing his thighs together at night whenever his mind begins drifting towards secret fantasies of holding Atsumu in ways he would have  _ never _ imagined holding anyone. He never tells Atsumu about any of this, about the indescribable heat that curls in his pelvis, the kind of heat that leads him to involuntarily push against a pillow, the action making him gasp, but also causing him to grimace in disgust.

_ I shouldn’t. I won’t. I can’t. _

As the intercom in the train buzzes to life, announcing the departure to Tokyo, Sakusa establishes a new addition to his routine: seeking out the perfect distraction so that he doesn't end up thinking too much about Miya Atsumu.

***

Tokyo is predictably still the same. A mad rush of people, looming skyscrapers in every corner of the sprawling metropolitan area. Upon stepping off the train, Sakusa begins the tedious task of weaving through the crowd, something he admittedly and quite strangely misses. 

He hastens his steps towards the taxi bay where, as he has expected, people have already fallen in line. It would be quite the wait, but to Sakusa, he would rather endure than take the bus for obvious reasons. Also, his knee injury happened a week ago and although he’s still recovering, it hasn’t been hurting as much anymore. He’s going to be fine, he tells himself.

Just a minute after he’s resigned himself to cueing, Sakusa feels the buzz of his phone in his pocket. He takes it out, expecting for it to be a text from his mother or from his older sister.

**_MSBY Miya Atsumu_ **

_ Omi-kun! You in Tokyo already? _

The once steady rhythm of his pulse instantly jumps to a quicker tempo. It dawns on Sakusa that ever since he began dating Atsumu, they’ve never really been one to text or call each other. It makes sense after all when they’re both members of the same team and consequently, live under the same dorm roof. Thus, when they had exchanged phone numbers a few weeks after Sakusa got signed to the Black Jackals, it was more of a formality. And it continued to be one even when they started their relationship, that is until now that Sakusa is actually in Tokyo while Atsumu is in Osaka.

As Sakusa grips the phone in his hand, eyes still transfixed on the screen, he conjures five possible responses he can text back. He types, presses the backspace button, types again, then another rapid movement of his thumb on the backspace. Sakusa eventually scoffs at himself for getting unreasonably flustered. 

It’s just a text. Sakusa can text him back. 

_ Why can’t I just text him back? _

“Excuse me,” a lady says from behind Sakusa. “The line has moved.”

“Huh? Oh. Sorry,” Sakusa does a quick, polite bow then moves forward a considerable number of steps.

It never really occurred to Sakusa before how different, how  _ easy  _ it was to talk to Atsumu when he’s right in front of him. Or beside him for that matter. When he’s with Atsumu, his headspace just isn’t as frantic. Never mind the occasional clumsiness and moments of hesitation. As long as it was Atsumu. Masterful in the art of provocation. Lame but endearing attempts at humor. An unquenchable fervor for the sport they both play, a kind of fervor that makes Sakusa contemplate on all the ways Atsumu can love and devote himself. All of those aren’t so readily apparent through text alone, Sakusa thinks. And so what usually emboldens him, what usually makes it  _ easy  _ doesn’t instantly register in Sakusa’s mind as he lets his thumb continue to hover over the screen.

He’s returned to being too cautious. Too prudent. And it’s frustrating.

Sakusa finally makes it to the front of the line. A taxi cruises in front of him and after he pulls open the car door, he slides in carefully, adjusting his knee in what meager leg room is available.

He tells the driver his address and off the vehicle speeds into the busy Tokyo highways. Sakusa checks his phone again. Still no new messages. Then again, Sakusa hasn’t even replied to the first one. He proceeds to unlock his phone, but instead of opening the text, he presses the camera roll. There isn’t much scrolling down to do when Sakusa only has less than fifteen photos in his roll, and so he immediately sees the only photo he has of Atsumu on his phone.

It wasn’t even Sakusa who took the photo. By some careless mistake, Hinata had foretook Sakusa’s phone for Atsumu’s. So when the brash blond had requested for Hinata to take a photo of him with a plate of food he had cooked (which apparently he was intending to show off to his twin), they ended up capturing it with Sakusa’s phone instead. Consequently, Sakusa made sure to give his two teammates a well-deserved glare and a stern warning. However, he never deletes the photo.

As he gazes fondly at the image on the screen (eternally grateful for the face mask that conceals the tiniest grin), the device comes to life and vibrates, alerting him of an incoming call.

_ Shit, it’s him. _

Sakusa presses the answer button after the fourth ring. “Hello?”

_ “Omi-kun!” _

“What?” Sakusa realizes that he probably said that with too much bite and he immediately feels bad about it.

Atsumu, however, blatantly ignores the near snap of Sakusa’s tone. 

_ “Is this a bad time? Are you in Tokyo already? By the way, did you even get my text?” _

The rapid succession of queries causes Atsumu’s dialect to thicken and Sakusa wishes he could see him.

“No, yes, and yes” Sakusa replies calmly.

_ “That’s great! Hope the train ride was alright and everything and--wait, where are you now, by the way? I mean I know you’re in Tokyo, but--” _

“Atsumu,” Sakusa cuts him off.

_ “Yes?” _

“You’re rambling.”

It’s silent except for Atsumu’s breathing. Sakusa hopes that Atsumu in turn doesn’t notice his  _ own  _ breathing through the phone.

_ “Sorry. I just--I mean I’ve never really spoken to you over the phone before.Just feels different. Kinda weird, even” _

Atsumu punctuates his words with a half-hearted laugh. Classic Atsumu attempt to stave off awkwardness.

Sakusa huffs out a sigh. “I’ll call you when I get home, okay? I’m still in the taxi.”

_ “Okay.” _

“Alright. Bye”

_ “Bye, Omi-kun...I miss you already.” _

Sakusa’s face instantly begins to burn. “I uhh...miss you too.” 

_ “Bye.” _

“Good-bye, Atsumu.”

He finally ends the call, tucking the phone back inside the pocket of his jacket. Pathetic as it may sound, but Sakusa can’t deny how that simple phone call had seemed to exhaust him. It felt like he had gone sprinting and that he’s still coming down from the rush of adrenaline and the maddening high of endorphins. But as he leans back in his seat, the subtlest of horrors begins to loom over him: how he cannot, for the life of him, get enough of hearing Atsumu’s voice through the phone.

***

If there’s anything Atsumu loves more than volleyball, it’s doing all the other supplementary activities that will only make him even better at it. While practice and conditioning that day was tough as usual, he still revels in the dull aches that came after. 

Admittedly however, Atsumu might have gone just slightly overboard. More reps than usual, longer miles on the treadmill, extra hours polishing a serve. And when he got called out on it, he simply told their coach that he was just too excited to be facing Aran’s team. That was it. Clearly it had  _ nothing _ to do with him feeling like he just had the single most awkward phone call of his life. And it was most definitely _ not _ because of how Atsumu had been waiting for a call that never came, but receiving instead a singular text that said:  _ Preoccupied with family matters. Can’t call you at this time, sorry.  _

_ No worries, Omi-kun!  _ Atsumu had replied, attaching two smiley kaomojis for good measure. 

It was a little after noon when Atsumu had sent his text, and now as he sits on his bed, the sky bleeding pink and orange outside his window, he checks his phone for perhaps the nth time that day. No missed calls and only one new message from his mother. 

There’s barely any light left trickling into Atsumu’s room and the harsh glare from his screen ends up emphasizing the cracks that had formed from when he had dropped his phone a year ago. He absentmindedly runs his thumb across the sharp and jagged lines, recalling how Sakusa had nagged him to get it fixed. He remembers the quick banter that ensued thereafter, comfortable and  _ right.  _ Sakusa had a knack for keeping up with Atsumu’s quips and if there’s anything Atsumu would have wanted to hear at this moment, it’s Sakusa badgering him about the damn cracks on his phone.

A few knocks on Atsumu’s door pulls him out of his reverie.

“It’s open,” Atsumu says.

“Atsumu-san?” Hinata pokes his head inside. “Barnes just cooked something really good for dinner. Wanna come eat with us?”

“Uhh, yeah. Sure,” Atsumu accepts. He looks at his phone before placing it on his pillow. “Alright let’s see if Barnes can cook as well as he plays.”

  
  


Barnes can, in fact, cook as well as he can play. It was unfortunate that only four of the Black Jackals were there to enjoy it, but somehow Atsumu appreciates this rare evening of solemnity.

_ Damn, Omi-kun is really rubbing off on me. _

After dinner, Inunaki offers to watch a game on his laptop to which Hinata excitedly accepts and Barnes following suit. Atsumu, however, tells them he’s too beat to join them (how couldn’t he be when he exerted himself too much today) and he excuses himself after helping Inunaki out with the dishes.

It belatedly occurs to Atsumu while he’s getting ready for a shower that he’s mostly been streaming matches exclusively with Sakusa for the past few months, and perhaps that’s what prompted Atsumu to decline the earlier invitation. 

_ Watching matches together is our thing. _

The thought instantly causes Atsumu to scoff at himself. Juvenile, pathetic. If Sakusa were to ever find out about that particular musing, he’d definitely roll his eyes at him. However, that doesn’t stop Atsumu from wanting to see him.

The exhaustion from the day's activities becomes more apparent to Atsumu after his shower. Once he returns to his room, he sits on the bed then snatches his phone from the pillow. Before he could even unlock his phone, his lockscreen shows him a missed call notification. Unwittingly, Atsumu's breath catches in his throat.

_ Shit. _

He quickly punches in the PIN and once the homescreen comes into view, he sees the missed call alert and the name of the caller.

_ Omi-kun… _

Atsumu curses at himself for leaving his phone on vibration mode and with slightly shaky fingers, eventually presses the call button. It rings and rings and suddenly Atsumu's mind begins a marathon of its own--a rapid race of speculations, wondering if Sakusa had fully figured out how ill-equipped he really is at this boyfriend role and--

_ "Hello?" _

"Omi-kun!" Atsumu instantly feels a hundred pounds lighter, but the way his chest just tightened at the sound of Sakusa's voice was quick to replace the brief feeling of elation. "Shit, I'm sorry I didn't pick up. I was having dinner."

_ "That's alright. I'm sorry too. I uhh just got out of the bath." _

"Oh you're going to bed already?" Atsumu asks, hoping that Sakusa wasn’t able to catch the inkling of disappointment in his voice.. "Should I just call you again tomorrow?"

_ "No. I'm okay. We can talk." _

"Oh, okay. So uhh how was your day?" Atsumu manages to ask.

_ "Not particularly eventful. House was empty when I arrived," _ Atsumu senses him pausing, then he hears a sigh from the other end.  _ "Only saw my parents and sister at dinnertime." _

Before Atsumu could even catch himself, he blurts out a jest. "Just like old times, huh?"

_ Wait. Shit, I shouldn't have said that. Better apol-- _

_ "Yeah," _ Sakusa answers with a chuckle.  _ "Glad to know my family is consistent as always." _

Relief hangs over Atsumu and he flops on his bed, already beginning to feel slightly drunk on Sakusa's voice and god he  _ wished _ he could have seen him laugh like that, brief as it was. 

"I want to see you already," Atsumu murmurs.

A pregnant pause.

_ "How clingy," _ Sakusa teases and the way he says it almost made Atsumu shiver.

"Hmm," Atsumu feels like a challenge has just been posed and he finds himself smiling, a subtle heat beginning to roil unprompted in some part of his body. "Don't  _ you  _ wish you could see me too, Omi-kun?"

_ "I'd want more if I'm going to be perfectly honest," _ Sakusa answers bluntly, but his voice sounds deep and certain and Atsumu had to bite his lip to prevent from gasping.

"What do you want, Omi-kun?" His voice dropping low as well. "I told you before that I was going to do anything for you, remember?"

He hears an intake of air followed by an exhale.  _ "Tell me what you would do if I were there in Osaka." _

That same heat simmers low and steady somewhere near Atsumu's midsection. He also simultaneously feels it crawl up to his neck and face.

_ One day, you’ll be the one caught off-guard. I swear!  _

Atsumu’s own words echo in his mind. And that's when the wheels begin to turn in his head and he's smirking, a thrill sharp and heady starting to bloom.

"I guess I would like to return the favor."

_ "Favor?" _

“You’ve stolen some kisses from me, Omi-kun,” Atsumu reminds him. 

Sakusa doesn’t reply instantly and all Atsumu catches is his subtle breathing. 

_ “So what?” _ Sakusa finally says, the smugness in his tone palpable. _ “Are you going to punish me for it, Miya Atsumu?” _

_ Fuck. I didn’t see that one coming. _

And in the dead of autumn, Atsumu suddenly feels a clear-cut fever overwhelm every square inch of his body, and somehow there seems to be a high concentration of it pooling just below his abdomen. He involuntarily fidgets, swallowing thickly before he is able to squeak out a response.

“I--I just think I have the right to steal some back.”

And Sakusa laughs, abrupt and so instantaneous, but it’s a tune that makes Atsumu so distinctly lightheaded that he ends up closing his eyes as he plays it over and over again in his head.

“I wanna see you so bad,” Atsumu whispers. “It’s so much better when I can  _ actually _ touch you, Omi-kun.”

Another deafening silence.

_ “Would you, actually?”  _

“Hmm?” 

It sounds like Sakusa is clearing his throat.  _ “Would you actually touch me, Atsumu?” _

“Only if you want to,” Atsumu answers carefully. “Wherever you want, Omi-kun.”

_ “Have you given it any thought, though? Where you want to touch me?” _

Atsumu groans inwardly. Just when he thinks he’s a step ahead, Sakusa has already managed to put a significant gap between them in their foolhardy flirtations. He’s too good at this, Atsumu thinks. But Atsumu has never been one to back down from a provocation.

“I think I’d start with your collarbones, Omi-kun,” Atsumu drawls. “You do have some very pretty ones.”

He hears Sakusa hum on the other end, then the sound of shuffling, the movement of sheets perhaps. A thought flickers in Atsumu’s mind as a result. This subtly scandalous indication of Sakusa stretched out in his bed which eventually emboldens him to string together words he never thought he’d say in any capacity to his boyfriend.

“I’d touch you slowly,” Atsumu continues. “Would that be okay?”

_ “Yes,” _ Sakusa’s voice comes out rather hoarse, but it still has that same low timbre to it that causes something in Atsumu to stir. _ “Where else, Atsumu?” _

“Hmmm...by your waist,” Atsumu confesses. “You have that one mole there. I’d like to touch it too.”

What comes out next on the other end is a barely audible gasp--so faint that if it weren’t for the pinpoint precision way that Atsumu is so familiar with the sound, he would have missed it. And in response, the liquid heat from his midsection starts to travel lower.

_ “Atsumu,”  _ Sakusa sighs. _ “Don’t stop.” _

Lower and lower and it registers in Atsumu’s almost short-circuiting mind that he’s already half-hard.

“Fuck, Omi-kun.” 

He meant to utter it with a laugh, just to slice through the tension. To reel them back in. But instead it was a groan and Atsumu’s throat is so dry and he feels too hot in certain places that would surely prompt a second shower.

_ “Keep talking,”  _ Sakusa almost sounds like he’s pleading.  _ “Just...say anything.” _

A whisper of discomfort goes unnoticed from between Atsumu’s thighs, but he fights the urge to touch himself. Sakusa would deem him perversed, he thinks. He shouldn’t, he won’t. Yet he opts to continue playing this game, this dangerous back and forth that only spawns traitorous responses from his body. 

Perhaps it’s his innate competitiveness that spurs him to keep going and not the base indulgences of human carnality. But Atsumu, sickening of a realization as it may be, isn’t too ignorant to understand how these two sensations can be intertwined--the high he garners from one-upping another individual and how it can clash with his pleasure receptors. Of course, it takes only a certain individual to trigger this primal phenomenon. And luckily (or maybe unluckily), said person was on the other end of this heated phone call, lazily coaxing Atsumu with syrupy questions and requests.

And Atsumu, too weak-willed for him, is more than willing to surrender.

“I want you here,” Atsumu semi-slurs. “So I can make you feel good.”

Sakusa grunts on the other end.  _ “Atsumu you’re going to drive me insane.” _

The setter eyes the dent forming in his sweatpants, an obscure mishmash of panic and arousal clouding his brain. “Could say the same about you, Omi-kun.”

Then a garbled exhale that leaves little to Atsumu’s imagination.

_ “You…” _

Atsumu gulps, his free hand involuntarily grazing his thigh and he nearly hisses at the sensation.

_ “Atsumu.” _

It’s almost like a prayer the way Sakusa says his name and the ache from below Atsumu’s waist turns acute. It’s never been like this even when they’re within reach of each other. It’s jarringly ironic and somewhat debased. 

_ Is this what they meant when they said absence makes the heart grow fonder? _

And so with every second that ticks by, Atsumu’s anticipation only continues to heighten. Where will Sakusa take him?  _ How far _ will he let Sakusa take him?

His setter fingers land on his inner thigh and he’s so close to where he is itching to be relieved, but he doesn’t go any further. It wouldn’t be fair to Sakusa, Atsumu tells himself. And this voice inside his head warns him, a rebuke that’s making its way through the haze of arousal. 

_ I should stop this. _

With his breathing still labored, Atsumu pulls up his hand and cards it through his hair. “Hey, I uhh suddenly remembered I have something I needed to do.”

No response.

“Omi-kun?”   
  


_ “Huh? Uhh, yeah. Good-bye.” _

The line goes dead, the edges of bewilderment awakening Atsumu’s senses. But the setter isn’t entirely out of the woods yet. Keenly aware of a pressing bodily need, he sits up and looks at the unwanted evidence of his follies. A curse and an incensed cringe later, Atsumu resolves to doing the only thing he could do.

Another shower wouldn’t hurt, he concludes.

***

Somewhere in Tokyo, in the very bedroom he grew up in, Sakusa Kiyoomi silently shudders against a pillow. He’s both soaring and drowning, doused in fire and dipped in ice. A sensory overload that‘s continuing to send delicious trails down his spine.

He hears Atsumu say his name and it’s like he’s being brought back down to Earth with all the tenderness that comes with the Kansai-ben lilt of one Miya Atsumu.

“Huh?” He mumbles. “Uhh, yeah. Good-bye.”

Sakusa ends the call and as the waves of clarity sidle unrushed to rouse him from his dazed state, a swell of anxiety takes hold of him when he becomes conscious of the stickiness between his thighs.

_ Fuck. Fuck, fuck. _

But the shame and panic would have to wait. For now, Sakusa is in dire need of another shower.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading and i hope this part was okay at the very least lol. i really tried my best to portray the whole feeling of 'it's been slowly building up to this, but they're still so shy about it'. 
> 
> part 4 will be coming out idk when to be honest lol. maybe follow me on twt https://twitter.com/vaporstretch__ for updates uwu
> 
> p.s. again the kudos i received on both parts 1 and 2 have been the fastest one i think. thank you again *aggressive heart hands*


End file.
